Sealed with a kiss
by Rose de Sharon
Summary: Post-AWE: Will, Captain of the Flying Dutchman, had left for his 10 years duty of soulferrying. Bootstrap Bill watches over his son at nights and swears a new oath.
1. A lonely vigil

**SEALED WITH A KISS**

By Rose de Sharon

**DISCLAIMER: **the recognizable characters belong to Disney.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **

- English isn't my native language and I don't have a beta-reader, all mistakes are mine.

- Father/son pure love!

- This story was inspired by Stellan Skarsgård's beautiful blue eyes, which cracked me up at the end of the AWE movie ;-)

**FEEDBACK: **Flames will be ignored. Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!

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**Chapter 1**

The long silhouette of "Bootstrap" Bill Turner was walking down the corridors of hisship, clad in his old but mended cloak. Lanterns were casting a yellowish glow inside the hull and, even if the former pirate didn't need it to see where he was going, he was grateful for the light. It was another welcome improvement.

It was dark outside and the crewmembers were asleep in their hammocks, apart from those on night shift. Bootstrap Bill, First Mate of the _Flying Dutchman_, should be resting on his own couch after a hard day's work but, unknowingly to the other sailors, he didn't sleep in there. Every night he went on a private, lonely vigil.

Since Davy Jones had disappeared into the ocean after his fight with Jack Sparrow, a lot of things have changed abroad the ghost ship. The _Flying Dutchman_ had gained a new Captain… and suddenly, service before its mast got much easier.

Now, the ship didn't look like a distorted sunken wreck. The invading crustaceans, shells and seaweeds had deserted its hull and the masts. The floor wasn't permanently waterlogged anymore; the beams, knuckles and walls were dry, erasing that permanent humidity which used to penetrate every shipmate to their very core. The cloth staples of the ragged sails were also knitting back together slowly, giving the _Flying Dutchman_ a better speed and inclination to the winds. Freed from encrusted marine life, the ship looked now like an ornate Dutch fluyt made of ivory instead of wood, enhancing its ghost-like aspect.

But that wasn't the most spectacular change.

With the new Captain's influence, the sculpted demon faces of the gun ports had disappeared, just like the sailfish skull on the ship's bow and the Grim Reaper figurehead. In fact, all the hideous sculptures adorning the ship had been erased, as if they had never existed. Also was gone the Kraken Hammer, Jones' vast pipe organ playing lugubrious music every evening, the game of Liar's Dice, the ship's ability to submerge, the sound of its cannon fires… and the horrible transformation of the _Dutchman_'s crew into freaks of nature.

Bill Turner sighed, and then stopped to look at one of the hanging lanterns. The side panels had been recently cleaned up and the man could see his reflection in the illuminated glass: a healing face was staring at him. His skin was no longer pale and clammy; in fact it was getting a light tan. He had fading marks beside his right eye from the starfish's tube feet which had stuck there for so long. His cheeks, nose and chin were recovering from the eruption of barnacles and mussels his enslavement to Jones had provoked. Long, graying hair had replaced the seaweed growing on his head, and gone was the coral sprouting from his shoulders and arms.

Even Bill's blue eyes had changed: formerly melancholic and hopeless, they were now shining with love.

Bootstrap Bill wasn't the only sailor aboard who had been granted that healing miracle. Every crewman who had survived the maelstrom battle had returned into their pure human forms when they got their new Captain, looking like men after years of slavery. The _Flying Dutchman_ wasn't Hell's favorite ship any longer because, unlike Davy Jones, the said new Captain wasn't a cruel being who had forfeited his duties in order to terrorize the seas and toil in servitude innocent sailors.

Freed from Jones' tyranny, it was a soul-ferrying vessel once again, led by William Turner, Jr.

It has been a month now that the crewmembers had regained both their bodies and their minds. Some had cried in joy while recovering long-lost memories, others in shame when they remembered their evil deeds committed under Jones' orders; a few of them, like old Wyvern, had asked their new Captain for the release of their souls as they were too weary to carry on. Their wish had been granted immediately. But the remaining sailors had been working very hard to get back to their true selves, like eating normal food instead of live crustaceans or sleeping without the help of rum. Some of them were even trying to sing songs and play card games!

The sailor's footsteps had led him to his destination: the Captain's quarters. He paused, and then knocked softly at the cabin's door.

"Captain? Will? It's me, son."

Silence greeted him but it was expected, since it was late at night. After a short while, Bill's hand gripped the doorknob and turned it slowly. The door opened, turning noiselessly on its recently-oiled hinges.

The Great Cabin was darkened and silent. However, the elder Turner could make out the shape of the furniture quite easily since years of living underwater had sharpened his night vision. He passed through the heavy table covered with navigational charts and instruments, the huge wooden globe, the armchairs, and soon he found Will, asleep on his couch.

Bill approached and looked at his slumbering son. Will was lying on his back, his dark mane of hair freed from the dark blue bandanna he had acquired when becoming Captain. He was fully clothed apart from his boots, as if he had wanted to lie down "just for a minute" and sleep had overtaken him. Moonlight was pouring through the stern's large cabin windows and it was illuminating Will's face, giving him an ethereal appearance.

_A beautiful face that matched an angelic soul._

"Will?" whispered Bill Turner.

The only response was a soft, regular breathing : Will was sound asleep, his father was now sure of it. Heavens know, Will deserved all the rest he could get after his courageous, heroic actions to rescue him. It had almost cost him his life.

Bootstrap Bill, worried that Will might be cold, found a blanket rolled up at the foot of the couch and covered his son's body with it. Then he noticed Will's dark shirt was open on the front, revealing the scarred chest. Bill felt his throat tightening in pain and he closed his eyes as a cruel memory came back to his mind…

_Will, his beloved son, was dying._

_His child was lying on the deck of the Flying Dutchman, Jones' sword driven into his chest. The octopus-faced Captain was laughing maniacally…_

_Will was dying. Jones was __making a mockery of Jack and Elizabeth's sorrow. And Bootstrap Bill had roared his rage to the skies._

_How could he have forgotten his own son? His **angel**, who had promised to free him!_

_Locked up in__ the brig, Bootstrap Bill had been loosing his mind, persuaded his son had been killed by the Kraken's attack against the merchant ship. Desperate, unable to handle the pain, he had accepted death and he was becoming an integral part of the ship, just like poor Wyvern did years ago. _

_When the imprisoned young woman, Elizabeth, had told him Will was alive and very resolute to keep his promise, this good news had come too late. Bill Turner hadn't had enough strength left within him to fight the curse's crushing grip on his mind. _

_With his last clear thoughts, he had __begged Elizabeth to tell Will to forget about him, just before re-entering the brig's walls and allowing more sea creatures to fester on his body. His William__ had to save his fiancée and not his worthless father._

"_Don't let him choose me," the elder Turner had said to Elizabeth. "__**I**__ wouldn't choose me."_

_Freeing his son of his oath was the last thing he could do to protect him__ just before meeting his end. But death didn't come for him. Instead, Bootstrap Bill had fallen into a hebetate state, reciting the Flying Dutchman's rules over and over again like a parrot. He hadn't been aware of him trying to prevent the escape of Elizabeth and her Chinese crewmen from the brig, killing Admiral Norrington in the process; nor had he realized him fighting "enemies" to defend the ghost ship during the maelstrom battle. _

_The curse had turned him into a mindless zombie, just like the ones of the old Caribbean legends he had been told about, years ago._

_Then, he had committed the unimaginable: h__e had fought his own son!_

Turner felt tears gathering in his eyes. He had been unable to resist the curse binding him to the _Flying Dutchman_ and its former evil Captain, what in the world kind of a stupid weakling was he? Bill Turner had surrendered to his despair instead of clinging to the love he felt for his William, and it has erased his memories. It has been his greatest failure as a father… and Will had paid a terrible price for it.

_The violent storm was ragging, __the pouring rain was nearly suffocating, the swirling waters created by Calypso's fury threatened to submerge the fragile ships dangerously tethering around the whirlpool. Bootstrap was fighting a young man, a member of the Black Pearl's crew who had boarded the Flying Dutchman. The youngster had caught his arm, blocking the rusted sword and he was looking at him with horrified, pleading eyes…_

"_It's me! Will! I'm your son!"_

Bill kneeled by the couch and brushed Will's cheek in a feather-light caress, marveling at the contact of the soft skin beneath his fingertips. He was unconsciously imitating his own gesture when, during the battle, a short-lived spark of reason stopped him from fighting Will and he had briefly tried to touch his child's face. Oh, the hope in Will's eyes… vanishing right after Bootstrap Bill had returned to his zombie-like state of mind!

_Will had defeated him easily and he had planted his grandfather's knife in the Dutchman's __deck, reminding the cursed pirate of his promise. Astonished by the youngster's refusal to kill him, Bill had remained stunned on the deck, unable to carry on the fight nor to detach his sight from the young man, engaged in a duel with Davy Jones to defend a young woman…_

A soft moan snapped the seaman out of his thoughts: Will was becoming agitated in his sleep, tossing and turning on the couch. His forehead was wrinkled; his eyes were turning wildly beneath the closed lids while wordless sounds were coming from his lips. Nightmares were now regularly plaguing Will, that's why Bootstrap Bill had dedicated himself to sit at his son's bedside every night and guard his dreams. Then in the morning, he would leave the Great Cabin silently, like a shadow, getting very little rest for himself but he didn't care about that. Only Will mattered and his father would gladly forfeit sleep for the rest of his life to help him.

"Hush, Hush. Will, my brave Little One, everything's fine. Shh…" whispered Bill as he cradled his son's face between his calloused hands.

After a moment Will quieted down, reassured by his father's voice. His body relaxed against the crumpled white bed sheets with a soft sigh and his features became untroubled, but Bootstrap Bill knew it was only a temporary reprieve.

It was the same thing every night: Will was having bad dreams and Bill was there each and every time to calm him. But the elder Turner wanted to do more to protect his son from nightmares but he didn't have a clue of how to do it.

_Has it been a__ bad dream… or the memory of his father carving out his heart?_

Yes, he had done this. Will was dying from the terrible wound inflicted by Davy Jones and even the world's most skilled surgeon couldn't have done anything to help. The only way to save his son was to make him the new Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. Jack had opened this opportunity by placing his own broken sword in Will's hand, stabbing Jones' dirty heart; the dreaded Captain had disappeared into Calypso's whirlpool, leaving Jack and Elizabeth barely the time to flee the ship before it became submerged as well, while Bill and the crew were performing the terrible task of…

… _Placing the heart of their new Captain in the Dead Man's chest._

William Turner Sr. had used his father's knife to open his son's torso, and then he had collected the beating organ. During the whole operation, Bootstrap's own heart had been mangled into a million of bleeding pieces but this time, he had refused to let despair overwhelm him: not with such a precious life at stake! In his father's hand, Will's heart had shone like pure gold for an instant – interrupting the shipmates' litany chant, _"Part of the crew, part of the ship"_ at this sight – just before Bill placed it in the Dead Man's chest. A deft turn of the key in the elaborate lock and the new Captain's heart was secured.

It had been the only way at hand to save Will. His mind knew it, but his heart was still bleeding since that fateful day. Bootstrap Bill hated himself every time he'd look at the scar on Will's chest since he considered what happened had been his fault: if he had been stronger-willed, the curse wouldn't have erased his memories and he would have recognized Will on the _Flying Dutchman_ during the maelstrom battle.

And then Bill came back to his senses… too late. His son had been stabbed and Jones was triumphant.

Tears escaped from Bill's cerulean eyes to land on the bedding. No, he couldn't – wouldn't – forgive himself. After all, he's the one who had left his family, forfeited his honor by becoming a pirate; he had stolen, fought, pillaged while his wife and his son were waiting in vain for his return. His William had to grow up without him, turning into the finest young man who had ever walked on God's green earth.

And yet, after years of separation, Will hadn't hesitated to love his twice-cursed, barnacle-covered, hellish-looking and pathetic father, not even for an instant! His son had risked everything – his future, his fiancée and his life – to rescue Bootstrap Bill from his doom. All this for a man who had abandoned him, without a word of regret.

"_I owe him everything,"_ thought Bill Turner while silently crying at his son's bedside. _"He saved my life, my soul, my sanity. He's 'heartless' now and in exile, away from the woman he loves, because of my past actions! I will never be able to repay such an enormous debt."_

The elder Turner gently took Will's right hand and kissed it. He would probably never know whatever good he'd done in his life to be protected by an angel. His personal angel, his William, whom he had stupidly left years ago in the vain hopes of a quick-gained fortune… but he was certainly grateful for this blessing.

In spite of his terrible ordeal, Will had remained just and fair towards his new crew. His first action as Captain had been to nominate his father as his First Mate, and Bill knew some of the sailors had feared the Turners would punish them for the mistreatments Will had suffered the first time he had been aboard the _Dutchman_. But Will had forgiven their past actions, winning the unconditional loyalty and respect of his men. Even the Bo'sun, Jimmy Legs, had thrown his whip to the sea, stating he would never use it under Captain Turner's command.

"_Will doesn't need a heart in his chest to love"_, though Bootstrap Bill while replacing his son's hand on the couch_. "He __**IS**__ Love. That's why he remains compassionate towards me, the crew and the poor people we ferry to the Other Side. Resentment cannot corrupt his soul, and his heart is well-kept by his adoring and faithful wife. He is not Davy Jones and he will NEVER become like him. Will is a pure being, a shining beacon of light and so much stronger than Jones could ever dream to be."_

"Will, my Will. Captain of my heart," whispered Bill softly, and his son smiled in his sleep.


	2. A father's oath

**Disclaimer :** the characters belong to Disney. I own Orlando Bloom in my dreams!

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **

- A big THANK YOU to Smithy, PadawanCassy, Kathy and Jennie, and to all my reviewers, you are wonderful!

- Smarm ahead! ;-)

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**Chapter 2**

A moment later, Will moved again in his sleep; he scooted over on the far side of the narrow couch, like he wanted to leave enough room for another person to lie next to him. Bill suddenly realized how weary he was from his long nights of lonely vigil at his son's bed side. Now that Jones' curse wasn't here any more to keep him alive in order to fulfill his enslavement, Bootstrap Bill Turner was starting to feel the years' weight on his bones! In fact, his eyes were starting to drop shut and his back was aching.

Maybe he could lie next to his son, just for a minute?

His dirty boots and humid cloak were quickly but silently dumped on the floor in a crumpled heap. As soon as Bill lay down on the bed, Will sighed and turned on his side, the entire length of his body stretched against his father's. The former doomed pirate could feel his son's breath against the base of his throat and, out of impulse, he gathered Will into his arms. One of his hands cupped Will's head, keeping it under Bill's chin, while his other arm wrapped itself around the youngster's shoulders. Unconsciously grateful for the extra warmth and the feeling of protection, Will sighed again and his dreams returned to an undisturbed state.

How long had it been since he'd last held his son like this? Too long…

_Four__-year-old Will had climbed into his parents' bed in the dead of the night. Mary had never woken up, worn out by both her work and their efforts to give Will a sibling, but Bill had immediately felt the presence of the mini-intruder slipping under their blankets._

"_Will? What are you doing, lad?"_

"_I had a bad dream" whispered the child._

_That had surprised Bill: from time to time, his son had a nightmare about sea-monsters or ghosts; however, Will never called out for his parents, just told them about the dreams at breakfast, and his father was amazed by the courage already shown by the little boy. What could have distressed him so much this time, to seek comfort from his parents?_

"_Was it scary__?"_

"_Yes," answered Will with a forlorn voice, and even thought it was dark his father knew the boy was trying very hard not to cry._

"_What was it about, Little One?" asked Bill, knowing his son couldn't resist the endearment._

"_I d-dreamed you and Mama were d-d-dead!" and Will had busted into tears._

_Bill Turner had gathered the boy into his arms, cooing nonsense words and whispering soft reassurances in his ear while rocking him. Will had promptly fallen back asleep, curled up against his Papa, and Bill had been mercilessly teased by Mary the next morning, who had called him "A big softie" after discovering the boy sprawled on her husband like on a mattress. Bill had thought he would never live it down…_

… And now, he was holding his full-grown, adult and slumbering son in his arms, and he wouldn't mind one bit to be called a big softie again, not even in front of the entire crew of the _Flying Dutchman_.

_It's the least I can do, considering all __he went through just to save my skin!_

Regrets were threatening to choke Bootstrap Bill again, but he painfully swallowed his sorrow; hitching movements would disturb Will, who was currently using his father's chest as a pillow, and Bill would rather be cursed for another eternity than being the cause of waking Will up. Instead, he concentrated on threading his fingers through his son's dark, long hair, just like his own used to be until years of hardships had turned it into gray.

"_He has my hair," _thought Bill Turner. _"He also has the shape of my face, my mouth and chin, we have almost the same height, and he is well-built. The spitting image of his old man, except he has Mary's eyes and nose; and he possesses more courage than I've had during my whole life."_

Will snuggled even closer and then he moved his head slightly, pressing his ear into his father's old shirt. Bootstrap Bill instinctively tightened his hold on the young man, fearing another nightmare, but Will didn't seem to be in distress. On the contrary, he looked more relaxed, a smile on his lips, as if he was listening to a lulling sound.

"_But what could he be hearing?" _wondered the elder Turner._ "The ship is silent and the sea is tranquil, there is no noise to trouble the night."_

And then Bill's eyes widened in realization: _William was listening to his father's heart!_

Bootstrap Bill suddenly realized what the cause of the young man's uneasiness was: since Will was "heartless" now, he missed hearing the quiet, rhythmic sound of his life. During the days it didn't matter, he was busy enough commanding the _Flying Dutchman_'s crew and consoling the souls ferried to the Other Side. But at nights, when Will was alone with his thoughts in the Great Cabin, his own state was haunting his dreams with a vengeance, preventing him to get a good rest from his duties.

Bill Turner would have kicked himself for not having thought of it earlier: hadn't he realized how painful it was for his son to be separated from his physical heart? No he didn't, mostly due to the fact that no one could understand what the _Dutchman_'s new Captain was going through this supernatural situation; and also because his William was keeping a stoic façade, as usual, and never complained about his ordeal.

_Oh, my __darling, you've never shown how much you were suffering, not once! But now, if the sound of my old heart can lighten your burden a bit, I will gladly let you listen to it. Besides, it beats for you; and only for you. It has woken up for the first time in many years when you came on this ship as an hostage and since then, my heart is alive. It has been bleeding since Jones stabbed you and yet, strangely, it is also getting stronger. It says your name, all the time: thump-thamp, thump-thamp, thump-thamp, Wil-liam, Wil-liam…_

Bill's mind was made up: he _would_ come to the Great Cabin every night and he _would_ use his heartbeat to soothe his son's anguished mind. Truth to be told, the older man would gladly rip his own heart out to place it in Will's torso if he could, but it would probably mean having to conclude another deal with the Devil and Bootstrap Bill Turner already had his full share of that!

The former pirate didn't have a clue of how to accomplish his decision, though: Will had a youthful pride and he certainly won't admit needing to hear his heartbeat to lull his dreams. But Bill couldn't – wouldn't – let his son suffer every night for such a foolish reason. The _Flying Dutchman_'s sailors who had accepted to serve under Captain Turner's authority did it to redeem themselves of their past actions. Bill's own redemption had taken Will's shape and face… After too many years of separation, it was high time for him to act like the father he was supposed to be.

In the darkened cabin, in the silence of the night, his child in his arms, "Bootstrap" Bill Turner swore an oath to the real Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_:

"Here I pledge to you, William Turner Junior, my cherished son…"

His voice was hoarse with emotion but his words were steely, revealing Bill's determination.

"… My protection against any malevolence, my help to the best of my abilities, my constant watchfulness over you …"

His fingers were still kneading Will's mane of hair, but the elder Turner couldn't even think of stopping since Will seemed to enjoy it. He remembered how much Mary loved having her head massaged by her husband while she slept, and apparently their son had taken from her.

"…Sharing with you of sunshine and tempests, happy times or hard times, accomplishments and failures…"

Bill knew that soul-ferrying wouldn't be an easy task: how could it be? Every time the _Flying Dutchman_ would cross the path of a wandering ghost sailing in a dinghy or floating in the water, it would be another sad story of a life cut short by bad weather, piracy or warfare. No one could stay indifferent to those souls' distress and especially not Will, the living embodiment of chivalry.

"…I swear to guard your soul with every beat of my heart…"

Oh yes, Bill would protect his loyal and noble son. If asked, he'd give away everything he owned on the spot, as long as it would help Will. How he cannot feel but humbled and grateful by the enormous sacrifice the young man had done to free him from Jones' clutches?

"… Until you are reunited with your wife and freed from your duties, able to live a well-deserved and happy life…"

That was where Will truly belonged, at Elizabeth's side, in the Land of the Living. Bootstrap Bill would make sure his son returned to his beloved with his soul intact and he'd gladly risk life and limb to see it happening. He hadn't had any idea what would happen to him personally, after Will was freed, but he didn't care about that.

"… Thereto I commit myself to this oath…"

The elder Turner tightened his hold on his William again: the words he was going to say would be the most important, but also the most painful for his remorseful heart. Tears were rolling from on his cheeks again but he paid no mind; even if his throat was tightening to the point of choking him, he _had_ to say those words.

"… Enlightened by the love I bear you and your mother."

And Bill sealed his vow by a kiss on his son's forehead.

He remained silent for a long time, hugging Will to his chest while rivulets of tears were slowly drying on his face. Even though his mind was a whirlwind of emotions, paradoxically he had never felt so at peace. His bleeding heart would finally start to mend, now that he had dedicated himself to Will's happiness.

Suddenly, Will's body moved, his eyes fluttered open and the elder Turner froze in panic when he realized his child was waking up. What his reaction would be, to find his father in the Great Cabin in the middle of the night? How Bootstrap Bill was going to explain he guarded his son's dreams ever since the _Flying Dutchman_ had gotten a new Captain in such tragic circumstances?

But Will didn't seem to be surprised neither by the presence of another being lying so close to him, nor did he have any questions about its identity. On the contrary, he embraced the older man and then mumbled:

"Father…"

"Will," responded Bill Turner reverently, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought he'd been caught on the act of watching over his son. A thousand explanations were already forming on his lips, but they all vanished when Will whispered:

"Papa, I love you."


	3. A son's promise

**Disclaimer** : the same as chapter 1.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **

- This chapter has references to my POTC stories "_For loving an angel"_ and _"My father's eyes"_.

- A big "Thank you" to all my reviewers, you are so kind!

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**Chapter ****3**

Bill Turner's breath hitched within his chest after hearing Will's gentle declaration.

Papa. He hadn't heard this word in years, not since he left England to seek his dishonest fortune in the Caribbean, and he'd thought he would never hear this child's word again. Even now, Will called him _"Mr. Turner"_ while giving his orders out loud from the _Flying Dutchman_'s helm and Bill understood it since hierarchy and protocol had to be maintained in front of the crewmembers. _"Father"_ had been mentioned in the very few casual conversations the Turners had since Will became their Captain. But _"Papa"_ had been an absent word so Bill had thought it gone forever… until now.

And his William had just told him he loved him. In spite of everything that had happened, his desertion and the other past mistakes following Bootstrap Bill like dusty, rusted chains dragged by a ghost, Will loved his father.

Bill crushed his son to his chest with all his might. He was too moved to answer and yet, Will didn't seem to mind. He hugged the older man back, as tightly as he could. After a few moments, the knot of emotion tied around Bill's throat loosened up a little, and he could finally say:

"Oh, my Little One…"

"I was dreaming about you, Papa."

"Indeed?" asked the elder Turner while gently stroking Will's temple with the side of his thumb.

"I was lost in a desert made of salt. Everything was white, including the sky and the sun, and I was standing in the middle of this nowhere with no food or shelter. The silence was deafening, I couldn't even hear my breathing. I tried to call out for you, Elizabeth, and even Jack, but my voice was gone. It was Davy Jones' Locker and I was alone, confronted with my greatest fear: being separated from the ones I love. Solitude was going to crush me like an insect and I felt so small and vulnerable."

Bill felt cold shivers crawling down his spine at the mention of the _Flying Dutchman_'s former Captain, but he managed to keep quiet. It would take him years before he could hear the name of Davy Jones without shuddering!

"Then I heard something… a heartbeat. It was a soft and reassuring sound, full of love. I started laughing in relief because I knew someone was coming for me… And then, the skies became dark and the flood waters of the ocean rose at the horizon. A tidal wave swept me up but I wasn't afraid, in spite of the raging storm I could still hear the heartbeat. I floated on the water like a cork and the ocean's life engulfed the desert, there were packs of dolphins, whales breaching out of the waves, flying fishes gliding through the air. The _Flying Dutchman_ appeared out of nowhere and the next thing I knew, I was sitting on its deck and you were holding me. I couldn't understand the words you were saying because of the tempest but it sounded like an oath and then I woke up… Am I right? Was it an oath, Papa?"

"Yes, my darling, it was."

Will raised his head from his father's lap, trying to look at his features, but only Bill's shining gaze was visible in the shadowy light. His blue eyes had acquired a bioluminescence quality under Davy Jones' tyranny but strangely, this ability had remained even after Bill Turner regained his human form along with the other crewmembers of the _Flying Dutchman_, thank to the influence of their new Captain.

"And what was it about?"

"I've sworn to accomplish something that I should have done years ago, Will: protecting you, helping you through your duties, and secure your happiness with your wife. I want to be a father for you at long least, and not a subject of shame or danger anymore."

"You've never been a subject of shame, Papa!" protested Will with vehemence, but Bill didn't answer. He appreciated this heart's cry but for the life of him, he couldn't believe his mild-mannered, law-abiding and noble son being proud to have a criminal as a father. Regrets were coming back with a vengeance and Will felt the elder Turner needed to know the depths of his feelings towards him.

He curled up in Bill's arms again and he covered his father's right hand with his left's. Immediately, their fingers intertwined and Will was grateful for this contact. He took a deep breath, bracing himself before confiding to the older man a secret which had weighted on his conscience for more than a year:

"I **did** feel shocked and angry when Jack told me you've been a pirate – but I was a naive young man at the time. I used to believe that all pirates, without exceptions, were bloodthirsty monsters, just like the ones who had sunk the ship I was serving on as a cabin boy, years ago. But then I met Jack and circumstances forced me to admit that this man, even if he's a scoundrel, also had a good nature. He even saved Elizabeth from drowning, without asking for anything in return! In spite of his double-dealings, his constant treachery and that silver-tongue of his, he's an honorable and likeable man – in his own ways. That's why I just couldn't let Commodore Norrington hang him after we've defeated Barbossa and his crew at the _Isla de Muerta_."

"And you saved Jack from the gallows… even though you knew it could mean the noose for you as well, my love."

"Yes. Norrington would have executed me too, if not for Elizabeth's intervention. Then I've spent the following year thinking about Jack's words, describing you as: _"A good man and a good pirate"_. His First Mate, Joshamee Gibbs, also told me how you prevented Barbossa and his mutinous crew to lift the Aztec gold curse upon them by sending me the medallion, out of loyalty for Jack, even if you would face retaliation. So I acknowledged the truth: you are truly a good man. That's why I felt so sorry at the thought I had "killed" you after the last gold coin was put back into the Chest of Cortez, along with my blood. I found a little comfort in thinking your sufferings on the ocean's floor were over – until I discovered you've been shanghaied into service aboard the _Flying Dutchman_. Since then, I was resolute to free you at all costs."

Silence followed Will's words. The young man was tucked beneath Bill's left arm, his head close against his father's heart and he could feel fingers gently massaging his hair. Then the former pirate's voice asked with barely-contained emotion:

"What good I've ever done in my life to deserve you?"

"That's an easy question, Papa. You deserve me because you love me."

Will closed his eyes, remembering the maelstrom battle…

_...He was dying and he couldn't feel a thing, not __even the sword thrust into his chest, the pain, or Elizabeth's hands on him. He couldn't move nor speak, just able to see his beloved grief-stricken eyes, Jack's shocked face, Jones beaming in triumph, and he couldn't do a thing but feel sorry for his father, for Elizabeth, for being so foolish to think he was strong enough to vanquish Jones and deliver them all, for dying too young…_

… _A roar of anger had rung out and Bootstrap Bill was attacking Jones, punching the octopus-alike monster square in the face, pounding the Captain to the deck and hitting him again and again. Rage, sorrow and love were disfiguring the cursed seaman; his heart was ripened in two, his mind consumed by the flames of vengeance. The submissive slave and mindless zombie had disappeared and Davy Jones was learning the hard way that damned souls could still fight for their children…_

… _And yet Jones was too strong and he had flung Bootstrap Bill over his shoulder like a rag doll, making him land across the cannons, laughing at his paternal love again, openly rejoicing at the thought the young Turner would soon become a member of his crew or another dead body floating on the ocean…_

… _But Bill's blind attack had provided Jack enough time to place his own broken sword into Will's boneless grip. The young man had saw Jack closing his hands on his fist, forcing him to keep a firm hold on the sword's hilt. And then Will had heard Jack whispering in his ear:_

"_For you, little brother."_

_And he hadn't understood the meaning of those words until their joined hands had stabbed Jones' rotten heart. The Captain had disappeared into the whirlpool, Jack and Elizabeth had fled the ship and his father…_

"Papa?"

"Yes, my son?"

"You don't hate yourself for… my heart, do you?"

Bill couldn't tell a lie. Even if the Great Cabin was plunged into shadows and it would be so easy to deny, he wouldn't dare jeopardize his blossoming relationship with Will, his own fear be damned. His son deserved the truth, everything that was good in this world, and much more.

"I do, Will."

"But… it was the only way to save me! You know that, better than anyone. I'd be dead by now if you haven't done it."

"That's true, my son, but it doesn't make it any easier. I cannot shake the feeling that what happened to you was entirely my fault. Everything went wrong after I left you and your mother, but I swear I've never wanted you to suffer from my actions. That's the reason why I abandoned you: I thought that if I cut all ties with you and your mother before disappearing in the Caribbean, you wouldn't have to face shame and to be treated like outcasts."

"Papa, listen to me. I love you and I forgive you, so you have to forgive yourself. I am proud to be your son, I could never ask for a better father. You are a good and loyal man. I'll never forget how you tried to spare me the whip, your sacrifice during the game of Liar's Dice and your attack on Jones after he wounded me. You've made mistakes, but your heart is your redemption."

"**You** are my redemption, William. But if it is your wish, I will try my best to forgive myself. Yes, I'll work very hard on it."

Will quietly chuckled and embraced his father again, just before asking:

"How long have you been watching me sleep?"

"Since you've became Captain. I couldn't leave you alone with your nightmares; I knew in my gut something was wrong, even if you didn't say a word about it, so I decided to keep vigil on you every night."

"No wonder you looked so tired. I thought it was an aftereffect of Jones' curse…"

"It doesn't matter, Will. Nothing matters, except you."

Bill thought his ribs would snap in two from his son's affectionate embrace, but it was a very good pain.

"Papa, the sound of your heartbeat helped me through my dream. Will you let me listen to it again?"

"I will gladly do it, my love. Every night, and anytime you'll need it. Please, do not hesitate to ask me and don't let pride or shyness stand between us. It will be **our** secret, son of mine!"

A long moment of silence followed Bill Turner's words. The ship's rocking had a lulling effect but the former pirate noticed the very first rays of dawn were coming through the stern's large windows, providing a bit more light inside the Great Cabin. Morning would be here soon and he hadn't slept a wink, still he felt renewed and ready to start another day. He didn't need sleep, actually; just a lot of healing.

Will's voice suddenly rose: "I take this secret with a promise, Papa."

Bill suddenly got frightened: the last time Will had made him a promise, it was to free him from Jones and it had ended with his son paying a terrible price. He opened his mouth to beg Will to stop but the younger Turner continued to speak:

"I promise you will live the rest of your life with Elizabeth and me. You will have a home with us, where you will be honored and cared for, and there will be a bunch of little Turners asking their Grandpa for stories, games and long walks. I am sure Elizabeth will agree; she has a very good nature and she knows how it feels to loose a father, her own has been murdered by order of Lord Beckett. She wouldn't want us to be separated again. You will grow old with your family because I refuse to let you die at sea, lost forever in the depths of the ocean."

Will sealed his promise with a kiss on his father's cheek, and Bootstrap Bill busted into tears.

His son, once again, wanted to save him! This time, it was from the watery grave he had always thought was waiting for him. During his time as a merchant seaman, the elder Turner had expected his corpse to be committed to the sea, in a shroud tied up with a rope and weighted with an old cannonball. During his pirating, Bootstrap Bill had imagined his body cut to pieces after a boarding and devoured by sharks. Then in his long years of enslavement to Jones, he had sadly concluded his destiny was to become an integral part of the Flying Dutchman's hull, his bones mixed with the wooden planks and beams.

But never, ever had he imagined himself aging in a warm house, full of laughter, surrounded by loved ones. Will had saved his life and his soul; and now, he was offering him a future! His son, his angel, his pure gift from the Heavens wanted him to stay by his side forever and Bill Turner was overwhelmed by such generosity.

_He__ wants to share his happiness with me. My whole life won't be enough to repay him for his kindness._

Will patiently waited until his father reined in his tumultuous feelings; he knew it would take time before the former pirate got used to the idea of having some sunshine in his life. After a long time, the sobs finally quieted and, with much difficulty, Bill said:

"Thank you, my love."

"Thank you, Papa."

They remained silent for a few moments and then Bill felt his son's hand on his face, trying to dry the tear tracks. Then Will's fingers froze and he picked up something from his father's skin.

"Papa?" The younger Turner propped himself up on his elbow. "What is this?"

Bill smiled; he already knew what his son was referring to. His grin got even wider when he saw Will looking in amazement at the two shining particles on his fingertips.

"Papa! Your tears! They've turned into…!"

"Diamonds. Yes, it still happens; even now that Jones' oath is lifted."

"_Still_? Do you mean this prodigy has occurred before?"

"Yes, my darling. The first time happened when Jones condemned me to the brig after the Kraken had destroyed the merchant ship that had rescued you. I thought you were dead and I was desperate… until this phenomenon happened. It gave me a little hope for a while, until the curse drove me to madness and I've started to forget you. The second time occurred when… I took your heart, but in the maelstrom's fury no one noticed. The diamonds ricocheted on the deck and fell into the ocean before I could even see them. The third time, while I was guarding your dreams after you've said your farewells to Elizabeth on Shipwreck Island. I kept them in my pocket."

Will was astonished by this revelation: the elder Turner's love was so great it could turn tears into gems! He smiled, and delicately put the two diamonds on a nearby wooden shelve, located on the wall just above the couch: they would be a beautiful reminder of Bill's oath and Will's promise. Then he settled back into his father's arms, feeling sleepy again.

"Papa? Will you stay with me?"

"As long as you want me to, Will."

"Forever, then."

Bill chuckled softly at those words.

"Forever, my cherished."

Will promptly fell back asleep, feeling secure by his father's presence nearby him. Bill couldn't rest, too moved by the conversation he just had with the precious life nestled in his arms. He watched the dawn of a new day slowly coloring the horizon with purple, orange, pink colors. The stars were still brilliant but soon they would disappear, erased by the sun's glory emblazing the sky and the ocean.

_After a long darkness, the sun finally rises… and in the darkness of my life, my sun's name is Will._

During the night, William Turner Sr. had sworn an oath to his new Captain and in exchange, he'd received a promise. What did that make him now?

_A healing heart._

_A mending soul._

_A man eternally grateful for being granted a second chance in life._

And, above everything else, a loving father.

_I am all this._

Out of impulse, he deposited a light kiss on Will's forehead. The young man unconsciously smiled and started to stir, but his father calmed him by stroking the dark tresses in a gentle gesture. Will returned to his dreams with a soft sigh.

_Just sleep, my son. It is__ still early. Papa is watching over you._

THE END! ;-)


End file.
